


Should Have Said (on hold)

by Spectre_Anon



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Angst I guess, Gen, diverges from end of ep. 4, not a lot of romance, plenty of upcoming violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5072089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectre_Anon/pseuds/Spectre_Anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He should have told her. Could have, anytime... all those opportunities he's shied away from now far beyond his reach... and here he was, hands tight around Fiona's throat while Sasha shrieked in the background. And he couldn't say anything. Couldn't let them know it wasn't him, couldn't tell them he was sorry, that he screwed up... all he could do was scream in his own head while Jack laughed.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rhys never told Fiona and Sasha about Jack. Now he's paying the price for that mistake.</p><p>(Currently on hold)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of splits off from the end of ep 4. with a brief flashback beforehand. My first real fanfic so any feedback is welcome.

"What you thinking about?"

Rhys startled, turning to see Sasha emerging out onto the caravan roof. He almost raised a nervous hand to smooth his hair but thought better of it at the last second – best to play it cool, not that he was ever that... not around her, anyway. "Oh, you know, just contemplating how this will probably all go wrong and we'll end up dead." He managed a lopsided grin. She grinned back.

"That's it, keep up the positive outlook." She shut the hatch behind her, but when she looked at him again he could read the concern on her face even in the wan light. "But seriously, you've been spending a lot of time up here recently... nothing's... wrong, is it?"

He stared back at her and tried to think what to say. He should tell her. He _wanted_ to tell her. Heck, it had been easy to lie at first. Back then they barely knew each other, grudging accomplices in some harebrained scheme to find a vault, nothing more and nothing less. But as the days went by he'd begun to realize that that wasn't true anymore. Fiona and Sasha were his friends... maybe not as close as Vaughn but still, they weren't nothing... and Sasha... well. He didn't even know what to say about that. He was fairly confident she didn't hate him as much as she had before but that wasn't much... The trouble was, as much as he wanted to tell them... he was afraid.

Not of Jack. No, the guy _was_ a murderous psychopath but he was also a hologram and as long as he relied on Rhys there was only so much trouble he could cause... he hoped. What frightened him was the girls themselves. He would have to tell them he'd lied, kept this a secret. He'd break any trust he'd built between them and he'd be back to being the lying Hyperion jackass in their eyes. In Sasha's eyes...

Oh, and Jack was pretty sure Athena would kill him if she found out and they'd probably tell her, so... that made it okay, right? It wasn't like he wanted to keep it a secret.

"Uh, hey Rhys? You've been staring at me for like three minutes now, anything you'd like to say?"

He blinked back to reality. "Oh, uh, I- no, nothing, just... the sky's really pretty, isn't it?"

God did he just say that? He fought down the urge to hit his own head against the caravan's roof while she raised her eyebrows.

"Riiiiight. Well, if you're going to be weird I might just go back down."

"No, sorry, I just thought... I've just got a lot on my mind."

After a moment's hesitation she sat down beside him. "I guess I can understand that," she said. "You're probably quite new to the whole 'people trying to kill you on a regular basis' thing. Takes a bit of getting used to for those not from Pandora."

"Yeah." He should say something now, something witty, something profound. "It kind of sucks."

She laughed. Well, it was more of a chuckle really but he'd take what he could get. "It does."

Her smile faded after a moment and her gaze grew distant. He didn't know what she was thinking of, didn't think it polite to ask. They sat quietly beneath the stars as the Pandoran landscape rushed past and for a while, at least, he forgot the gnawing guilt of his secret.

"Rhys..." she said after a while, "where did you live? Before Helios, I mean."

"Oh... Eden-5."

"Was it nice?"

"I guess. I always thought it was just normal but this place puts things in perspective. So yeah, it was nice."

"Do you... miss it?"

He shrugged. Why was she asking? Was his life that interesting? Did she actually care or was this just some kind of small talk? "Haven't given it much thought, really... Helios has been my home for years. I missed it at first but that was a long time ago."

She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "Maybe I'll visit someday."

"You'll... what?"

She sighed. "Me and Fiona, we always swore we'd get off of Pandora someday. Once this is all over, if we do... then maybe we'll go there. See if it really is nice."

"Ah. Right." Of course that was all it was. He struggled to think of something more to add but came up blank. After a while Sasha got to her feet.

"Look, I should get back. It's my turn to drive, and I suppose someone should probably stop Fiona flicking cards at Vaughn."

"I told her to stop doing that!"

She smirked. "That's _why_ she'd doing it. Don't worry, I'll get her to behave."

Rhys watched her go with the lingering weight of regret. Maybe she sensed it or maybe it was just chance, but she paused on the ladder to look back at him.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

He should tell her. He should just tell her. But he only smiled. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Absolutely fine."

She closed the hatch.

###### 

He should have told her. Could have, anytime... all those opportunities he's shied away from now far beyond his reach... and here he was, hands tight around Fiona's throat while Sasha shrieked in the background. And he couldn't say anything. Couldn't let them know it wasn't him, couldn't tell them he was sorry, that he screwed up... all he could do was scream in his own head while Jack laughed. And they didn't know, God, they didn't know. They would die without ever knowing. He would give anything to stop this, to go back, to save them... but he couldn't, he could only watch in horror and wish that it wasn't real.

Fiona's eyes were rolling back in their sockets, the burning hatred in them fading as she did. This was his fault. All his fault. Someone had to stop him, why wouldn't anybody-

A sharp pain in the back of his skull and everything went black.

Somehow from the smothering darkness he fought his way back to consciousness. His head hurt. It didn't just hurt it throbbed, ached with a pain so sharp he barely dared to move it. Yet he was alive, however unlikely it seemed. He blinked up at the dark ceiling above him and tried to get his bearings. Where was he? Where was Jack? Where was...

Despite the pain he pushed himself up to his knees, teetering as the room span.

"Don't move." The voice was cold but familiar. Rhys struggled to focus, staring at the bleary figure before him.

"Sasha," he said, relief keen in his voice. He reached toward her as if to convince himself she were real but she stepped away, leveling the gun.

"I _said_ don't move," she spat.

He sat on the cold ground, staring up at her as his vision cleared. Her finger was tight on the trigger and there was no disguising the loathing on her face, the utter contempt. Why hadn't he told her?

"It wasn't me," he said, willing her to believe it no matter how feeble those words sounded.

"I don't want to hear it."

"It wasn't, I-"

"Will you just shut you stupid, lying mouth for once? I don't want to hear your excuses. I don't care. The only reason you're still alive is because Fiona is, and she still thinks we need you to get the vault open. So shut up and stay still!"

He shut up. She was on the verge of tears but her gun didn't waver for an instant and nor did her grip on the trigger. Would she shoot him? He supposed he didn't blame her. He deserved this...but still, that look of utter betrayal cut him deep. He couldn't say nothing.

"It was Handsome Jack."

"I said-"

"It was! You remember back when I stuck that ID drive into my head? Well, turns out there was an AI version of him in there which, you know, went right into my brain."

She took a deep breath. "I can't believe I ever trusted you... that I ever... that I even... I don't know what I expected. You're _Hyperion_." She dragged the word out like it was something dirty. "You're just like the rest of them."

"I'm not lying," Rhys said desperately but it was no good. She didn't believe him. There was no way he could make her, no way he could salvage this wreck. If Vaughn were here then maybe... no, that wouldn't help. Besides, Vaughn was safest away from him while Jack was still... actually, what had happened to Jack? Evidently he wasn't puppeteering his body at the moment, and he could see no sign of the flickering blue hologram but it seemed too much to hope that he might actually be gone...

He tried to push aside his own misery and the pain in his head, tried to worry about the problem in hand. "What happened," he asked, "after I... after..."

"After you tried to kill us?"

He winced at the venom in that tone. "Yeah, that."

"August happened," she said with satisfaction. "We all thought he'd busted your skull, it wasn't till later we realized you weren't as dead as we all wanted. By then Gortys was there, and she kept telling Fiona we needed you and well, you got lucky."

"And where are we?"

"You don't get to know that."

"What about-"

She waved the gun at him. "Enough talking. I've told you-"

The door clicked and they both turned to see Fiona enter, shutting it behind her. She looked pale and drawn, and even with the high collar of her shirt and coat he could see the telltale purple of fresh bruises on her skin. Regardless, her expression was every bit as harsh as her sister's, and while her voice was raw there was a reassuring fierceness to it. "Actually," she said, "I think we have a lot of talking to do."


	2. Chapter 2

Suddenly his mouth felt dry. What to say to someone who had nearly died because of him? “Oh, hey there... Fiona.”  
  
She regarded him coldly where he still knelt on the ground. “Let's make one thing clear, if I so much as _think_ you're going to try hurting me or my sister you are _dead_ and to hell with the vault. Got that?”  
  
“Uh... yeah.”  
  
“Good. Now what the heck went wrong with you?”  
  
This time he paused, collecting his thoughts rather than blurting out the answer. Sasha had already proven that approach didn't work. She was still glaring at him from across the room, gun pointed at his chest. Nervously Rhys tugged at his tie. “Do you remember just after we first met? When you were trying to shove me and Vaughn out of the caravan?”  
  
Fiona nodded. “How could I forget?”  
  
“Right. And then I used that ID drive to track the case? Well, _slight_ problem, that I might have not mentioned... there was a, uh, AI version of Handsome Jack in there, and he kind of got dowloaded... into my brain.”  
  
Sasha snorted, pulling a face at her sister. “Can you believe this crap? I mean come on, Fi, he's obviously lying.”  
  
Fiona was studying him carefully though. _Reading people is what I do_ , she'd said once. He hoped that she was as good at it as she always insisted, that she could look past the pain, the anxiety, the desperation... and see that he really was telling the truth.  
  
“I always wanted to tell you both,” he added hesitantly, “it's just, it never seemed like the right time...”  
  
Even to him it sounded a lame excuse. God, how had he screwed up this badly, what had he been thinking? Somehow it had always been easier to put it off one day after the next, pretending that it was a problem he could deal with later, that it would never really catch up to him. Jack had taken full advantage of that stupidity.  
  
She leaned back against the wall, arms folded. “So what you're saying is that it wasn't you, it was Handsome Jack who tried to kill us. That after you went up to his office, somehow he got control of you.”  
  
“Yes,” he said, relieved.  
  
“And he's in your head.”  
  
“Yes... I mean no. I mean he was but I'm not sure anymore... it's not the only place he could be.”  
  
“Convenient,” Sasha muttered.  
  
“Look,” Rhys said, “I know you don't like it but it's the truth. I can't prove it, but please, trust me on this... I would never... I wouldn't _do_ that... hurt you I mean. It wasn't me...”  
  
He stared at the ground, remembering Jack's laughter as his hands tighten around Fiona's throat, Sasha's screams...  
  
“Alright,” said Fiona.  
  
He looked up in surprise. Sasha was equally shocked.  
  
“Fi-” she began, but Fiona cut her off.  
  
“Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I believe him... or that I forgive you, Rhys, but right now we have other things to deal with. So do as we say and make yourself useful, then maybe we won't shoot you.”  
  
“I do like not being shot,” he said with an awkward smile. They didn't flatter him with a laugh.  
  
Fiona made her way over to the door. “You can start by getting up. As much as I enjoy your groveling you're no help on the floor.”  
  
Rhys wasn't even sure if he _could_ get up. Although the throbbing of his head had dulled a bit it was still painful and the room blurred around the edges. However, since they were no longer likely to shoot him he supposed he could give it a try. Cautiously he pushed himself up, arms out for balance, and stood to his full height. Everything swayed. He'd never realized how tall he really was before, but now it felt as if he were perching atop a rickety ladder in high winds. He staggered a little and Sasha half moved to steady him before she caught herself.  
  
He opened his mouth to say something to her – a thanks, an apology, he wasn't sure – whatever it was died in his throat. She still wouldn't even look at him without glaring, he'd only spur her anger. However much he wanted to try to fix things, to salvage what might have been, he knew it had to wait.  
  
Fiona held the door open for him as he tottered through and out into what looked like a large storage room. The shelves reached right to the ceiling leaving a labyrinth in their wake, but as strange as it was there was something familiar about the place. Sure enough a quick glance at some of the boxes and their Hyperion stamped labels told him everything he needed to know.  
  
“Wait, we're _still_ on Helios?” he demanded, nearly falling over as he spun to face her.  
  
“Well yeah,” said Fiona, “not long after you were out the whole place went into lockdown, we couldn't have left if we wanted to. Nearly went deaf with all those alarms. What did you think? That we were on Pandora?”  
  
Steadying himself against the nearest shelf he blinked. “I guess... no, I don't know. How long was I out?”  
  
She shrugged. “A couple of hours? Not long enough for them to search the entire place apparently but now would be a good time to be leaving.”  
  
They made their way through the storage room, Sasha tailing behind. August was waiting by the entrance door with his gun in hand and Gortys beside him. The little robot waved at them as they approached.  
  
“Hey guys,” she said, then froze. “Oops. _Sorry_. We were suppose to be playing the quiet game.”  
  
“Hey Gortys,” Fiona replied before turning her attention to August. “No trouble?”  
  
“No, heard people walking past a few times but no one's stopped by.”  
  
“Alright.” She looked back to Rhys again. “So, here's the deal. Finch and Kroger had to leave the caravan but they've got us another ship, trouble is the lockdown's still in place so we can't get to them since the stairs are blocked and the elevators won't shift without clearance. Oh, and to top it all off the hanger bay doors are shut tight. What are the chances you can... hack into whatever needs to be hacked and get us out?”  
  
He closed his eyes, fighting the blinding pain in back of his head. “I... yeah, suppose I could, if I get somewhere with access.”  
  
“And where's that?”  
  
“There's a panel by the elevators. If I hack that then I can get us moving, but I'll have to get to the power core to override the doors.”  
  
“Right, let's do this.”  
  
“Yeah!” added Gortys with enthusiasm.  
  
“Wait, hang on,” said Sasha, “are we really just going to go charging out there like this? I mean, we are kind of conspicuous.”  
  
“Do you have a better plan?” Fiona asked. “I figure this is better than sitting in a store room and waiting for someone to find us.”  
  
“Point taken.”  
  
Fiona gestured to Rhys. “You, you walk with me and try not to trip over your own feet. Sasha, August, you make sure that if anyone tries to stop us... that they don't stop us.”  
  
“What about me?” asked Gortys, gazing up at her with a look of expectation.  
  
She paused. “You, uh... keep up the moral support, Gortys.”  
  
And just like that they set off.  
  
It was slow going, partially because Rhys still had trouble walking in a straight line and partially because the only thing that could make them more conspicuous was rushing. Thankfully they didn't see any guards. They did pass a few Hyperion workers, but August narrowed his eyes at them and they quickly remembered they needed to be elsewhere.  
  
Every step of the way Rhys was acutely aware of how completely exposed they were. Someone was looking for them – had to be if there was a lockdown – and all it would take was for them to glance up at the security footage at the right moment or for one Hyperion suck up to bother reporting the suspicious group making its way through the corridors. Then it would all go to hell.  
  
His tension eased a little once they finally reached the elevator. “Get a move on, Rhys,” Fiona snapped as he dithered at the access panel.  
  
“Yeah, thank you for the encouragement.” He had enough of a headache as it was. Rhys opened his mechanical palm and activated the ECHO-  
  
A sudden burst of white hot pain flared in his skull, grinding all coherent thought to a halt as he cried out, dropping to his knees.  
  
Static flickered across his vision. It was agony in the truest sense, stabbing at him with a thousand heated daggers as he clutched at his head and gritted his teeth. _Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop..._ Through the ringing of his ears he thought he heard voices but he couldn't find words to reply, could only hold in screams. Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't it-  
  
He shut the ECHO system down. Gasping he blinked back tears, drawing the world into focus again. Fiona was clicking her fingers in front of his face.  
  
“Maybe you should try slapping him,” suggested Sasha, “that ought to snap him out of it.”  
  
Rhys flapped an arm weakly, waving them away. “I'm fine, I'm... sort of fine.”  
  
“Then what was all that about?”  
  
“I think...” He examined his mechanical arm carefully, testing its motor control. “Something's wrong with my cybernetics... I tried to link up and... the ECHO system just malfunctioned. Exactly how _hard_ did you hit me?”  
  
August frowned. “What, so now this is my fault?”  
  
“Forget that,” Fiona interrupted, “can you still hack the elevator?”  
  
He winced as he pushed himself back up, using the wall for balance. The access panel sat there accusingly.  
  
“No,” he admitted after a moment, “the Hyperion system is complicated, it's not meant to be easy to hack. If I can't interface then it's no good.”  
  
“What about your cybernetics? Can you fix them then?”  
  
“How? I don't have any tools and I don't even know what's wrong with them. It's... it's very delicate work.”  
  
“So what... you're saying we're trapped here?”  
  
There was a look of disbelief on her face, a total refusal to accept the facts. He shrugged, unable to offer anything else. If this had been his opportunity to begin making up for his mistakes he was off to a poor start. “Yeah... sorry, I guess.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be some mistakes since I'm pretty tired right now but I don't feel like sitting on it. I might come back and edit it later.


	3. Chapter 3

For a while they all stared at him. The August raised his fists. "I think I should hit him again."

"That's not going to fix his cybernetics," Fiona complained.

"Hey, who said anything about fixing them?"

"How do we know you're not lying?" Sasha said, pointing her gun at Rhys accusingly. "Maybe you want us all stuck here."

" _Ooookay_ , look, before we all start playing the blame game and arguing over who's going to beat the crap out of me, how about we just take a moment to think of some alternatives," said Rhys. He tried to smile, to ease the tension, but only Gortys smiled back and he was pretty sure she would smile at anything if encouraged.

"What alternatives?" Fiona asked. "Unless there's some secret air duct you think we can crawl through then we're stuck here."

"Well, uh..." he wracked his brains. The trouble was he didn't really have any alternatives, none of this scenario was stuff he could have planned for. "We could... we could..."

"Hostages!" exclaimed Sasha. "That's a thought, right?"

"Hey guys-" Gortys began, only to be cut off by August.

"Yeah, except Hyperion doesn't give a damn who you've got at gunpoint."

"It's a better plan than just standing here."

"Guys-"

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I agree with August," said Rhys, "even if you do find someone important enough to be worth the hassle people here can be a little... backstabby."

"Yeah, you've demonstrated that just fine," Sasha said.

Fiona gave a groan of exasperation. "Now's not the time for squabbling, we need to work together. Unless any of you have a genuinely useful suggestion then shut the hell up."

They shut up. Then, timidly, Gortys raised a hand. "I have an idea."

Fiona smiled. She looked tired, but Rhys knew it would take a lot more than that to make her snap at the little robot. "Go ahead Gortys," she said, "what's your idea?"

"Well... I was thinking, maybe we could ask the people in the elevator to help us?"

She stared blankly. Then in synchrony her, Sasha, Rhys and August all turned to look at the elevator and the red numbers flicking away above the doors.

Sasha lifted her gun uncertainly. "It's not... necessarily going to stop on this floor, right?"

"Don't know, but I for one believe in not tempting fate so I'll just go stand round the corner, you know, out of the way of any bullets," said Rhys, backing away with one hand on the wall to steady him.

She opened her mouth to spit something out, probably some taunt about him being a coward. He wouldn't have even argued with her. He _was_ a coward, it was the reason he was in this mess in the first place. But what good was he going to be when he could barely stand?

"You do that," said Fiona before her sister had time to complain. "Gortys, stay with him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Oh... I'll try,"she said, though from her tone she seemed to think that was impossible.

Fiona waved Sasha and August closer and they pressed themselves against the wall on either side of the elevator doors, guns at the ready. Rhys moved back with Gortys at his heels and tried not to feel guilty. They could handle it... of course they could. Had they ever given him reason to doubt? The trouble was that once he was round the corner and they were out of sight, well, his mind liked to over exert itself. Images of them shot, bleeding on the ground while he stood helplessly... but it would be fine. It _would_ , he insisted.

"Are we playing the quiet game now?" asked Gortys. "August's _really_ good at it."

"Yeah... we're quiet for now."

Eyes closed and head still pounding he waited, riding out the nightmare of his own imagination second by second. Then there was gunfire. It was short and sharp, over in the time it took him to startle. A series of heavy thumps followed, bodies dropping to the ground.

He almost called out but caught himself at the last second. They were fine, of course they were... but then why weren't they saying anything? Why was there only silence ringing in his ears? His throat felt dry. Best to stay quiet for now. Maybe a peek though, too quick for anyone to see. He just needed something to reassure him, something to-

"Did you have to do that?" asked Fiona.

Rhys let himself relax and Gortys released her grip on his leg. He hadn't even realized she'd been holding on to him.

"Do _what_?" asked August.

"Shoot everyone."

"I thought that was the plan. What else did you expect me to do? They were Hyperion guards, would have shot at us anyway."

"Well you could have left one, as a hostage or something."

"Are you serious? We agreed that hostages-"

"What did you think the point was if we didn't get anyone to help? We've still got an elevator that won't move for us, so we're still stuck here. Great going, genius."

"I thought," August growled, "the point was that we didn't all get k-"

Something crackled. Then a voice droned out, a sickly familiar voice rendered eerily through the speakers. "Did you just... did you just shoot my guards? Man, do you have any idea how long it's going to take me to call another five down here? Like... a _minute_. A whole goddamn minute."

No. Rhys supposed it had been too good to be true, to think he might actually be gone. The damage to his cybernetics seemed to be enough to keep him out of his own head but Jack had the whole of Helios to play with now. And he knew where they were. He tried to stay calm, to ignore the thudding beat of his heart.

"I can't believe this," said Sasha, "is that... who I think it is?"

"I don't know," Fiona said uneasily.

"Oh you _better_ believe it. Handsome Jack, back in the digital flesh baby! And, ha, I'm going to cut to the chase in the interest of time saving and all – you're going to die. That's just how it is. So, if you would stay _right_ there and be good kids then we can wrap this up nice and quick."

"Yeah, don't think we'll be doing that," Sasha said. "August, Fi, let's go. We'll think of something else."

"Oh, is that right is it? Well you just wrack your little noggins as much as you like, because here's the thing - you're not moving from that floor. That's how lockdown's work you _idiots_. So, if you would stop being such time wasters then that'd be great. I mean, I have soooo much to do, it really piles up on you with the whole 'being dead' situation..."

"Jack," said Fiona, "go screw yourself."

Jack paused for a moment. "Okay," he said slowly, "that's kind of rude. You were low priority but if you're going to be like that I may just bump you up the list. The murder list. It's a little something I've been working on."

"Say what you like, it's all just threats. You've already said you're going to kill us, it doesn't matter how you dress it up."

"Oh ho ho, and that is where you are so very, _very_ wrong. See, I don't just have to kill you. I can have you skinned alive, in _front_ of one another... you'll be screaming, they'll be screaming, blood everywhere... Actually that sounds way more fun than my original plan, we'll do that."

Rhys felt a twinge of dread. They didn't understand, didn't see how deathly serious Handsome Jack was behind that light and easy tone. He'd learned first hand that he wasn't just a bag of empty threats, Jack was remorseless, unforgiving and needlessly violent when it came to satisfying his own sense of justice. Antagonizing him would only make matters worse.

"Still not happening." There was no fear in Fiona's words, no caution.

"You just- you really don't _get_ it, do you? There is no way out of this, no escape, no home run for you guys. You're done. Finished. All that matters is how creative I'm going to have to get once you're dragged in. And, oh boy, I can be _really_ creative when someone pisses me off."

He was pissed off, Rhys realized, there was a subtle note of anger creeping into voice. Handsome Jack's temper was being tested and pushing him over the edge was a big mistake. He had to do something, had to... but what? The best he could hope for would be to distract him, draw his attention and anger away from the others. Rhys almost trembled at the thought. Jack had tricked him, possessed him and almost made him kill his friends. What else could he do, given the opportunity? Probably bad things. Nothing he wanted to think too hard about.

"Listen here you... you blue maniac," Sasha began, "you can go stick your crap back-"

Rhys staggered round the corner before he could change his mind. "Leave them alone Jack. It's me you want... right?"

None of the other three looked impressed but it wasn't them that had his focus. He could see Handsome Jack's face on the elevator control panel, staring back at him with a look of genuine surprise. It took him a moment to collect himself. "Wow, hey, kiddo... you're not- you're not dead. Okay, that's... because you were doing a pretty good impression of it before and I couldn't... Okay. So. That changes things."

They regarded each other solemnly while Gortys stumped her way over.

"Sorry," she whispered to Fiona, "he's faster than he looks."

"You did fine," Fiona reassured her with a smile. Her attention was divided though. She, too, was studying Jack.

"Alright," he said eventually, "here's the new deal. How about you lot all come up to my office and we can have a nice chat, murder free, one time exclusive offer. I'm being very generous here so don't leave me hanging."

"I'm not going back to you," Rhys said.

He frowned. "Huh. Rhysie, cupcake, did you learn nothing? Don't you remember what happens to people who say no to me? Don't you?"

Rhys swallowed but didn't have the nerve to reply. Fiona sidled up to him.

"Look," she said softly, "we may regret it, but maybe we should? If we stay here we're stuck and we've got nothing to work with. If we ride this out we could get the opportunity we're looking for, make a break for it..."

It was madness. Yet she was right, they didn't really have a choice. As things stood Jack would get a hold of them one way or another, maybe it was best to play along and not piss him off any more than necessary.

"You won't hurt them?" he asked. "No killing?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, murder free," said Jack, "cross my fingers, swear on my mother's grave and all that. Hop in the elevator, let's go. I told you I'm busy."

August dragged the guards out and they piled in with a sense of reluctance.

"Fi," asked Sasha, "are we really doing this?"

"Yeah. You can blame me later if it goes wrong."

August glared. "This is stupid."

Rhys had to agree with him, but as the doors closed and the elevator lurched upward there was nothing more they could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I'd leave Jack out for long, did you?


	4. Chapter 4

For all that the ride up was quick it felt drawn out, somehow slowed by their own trepidation. Rhys shuffled anxiously but could think of nothing to say. 

He supposed, if he were to look on events in a positive light, at least now they knew he hadn't lied about Jack... hadn't betrayed them... hadn't hurt them... well, not intentionally anyway. But no one was leaping to apologize, they were far too preoccupied with their current dilemma to spare him a thought. Which was fair. Yet some part of him longed to see an iota of forgiveness in their eyes, something to ease the guilt that still clung to him, something to assure him he hadn't burned those bridges entirely.

Sasha was looking away, staring at the wall with a fierce expression. Did she mean to avoid his gaze or was she simply psyching herself up for whatever awaited them? He wish he knew.

The elevator slowed to a halt and the doors slid open. They were greeted by a line of Hyperion guards and their guns.

“Probably should have seen that one coming,” Fiona said.

One of the guards stepped forward. “We're, uh, supposed to take your weapons, so if you'd just hand them over...”

August looked as if he were contemplating shooting but Fiona gave him a tiny shake of her head. There were too many. He gave a snort of disgust but tossed his gun to the ground and after a moment's hesitation Sasha followed suit. Fiona made no move to unclip her hidden pistol but the guards didn't seem interested in her. 

The guard picked up the guns then stood. “What about the robot?” he asked. “You've got no... laser beams or... secret weapons or anything?”

“Oh no,” said Gortys brightly, “but sometimes when I scream people's ears bleed.”

The guard absorbed this. “I see... Well, don't scream then.”

“You got it!”

He sighed. Then he gestured off down the hallway and they set off with the guards walking behind, slowly so as to accommodate Rhys's wobbly step.

“An escort,” muttered Sasha, “how thoughtful.”

“Well they didn't shoot us,” Rhys said, “which is sort of a good sign...”

“Wow, you're _really_ optimistic given how things have gone so far.”

“Just... trying to help.”

“Why are these guys even working for Jack, anyway? He's just an AI, don't they have an actual boss?”

Rhys winced. “He's _Handsome Jack_.”

There was no real way to explain it to people who hadn't spent years working on Helios. On Pandora Jack had been a villain, a monster and nothing more. On Helios he'd been... well, maybe not a Hero but certainly someone to be admired. He was legendary. Rhys himself had spent years idolizing him, telling himself that that was the man he wanted to be. He'd longed for that kind of power, that success. Everyone knew of Handsome Jack. They also knew that if you wanted to live you did exactly what he told you.

“How long was I out again?” he asked Sasha. 

She shrugged. “Couple of hours.”

“Well, he's had that long to make sure everyone knows he's back. _Aaand_ probably toss a few people out of airlocks, gun down anyone who looks like they might argue... so yeah, he's in charge now.”

He heard Fiona scoff from his other side. “And _that's_ how your chain of command works here?”

“Oh I'm sorry, is it any different on Pandora?”

“You're not... _actually_ defending Hyperion are you?”

“No... I mean... no.” He'd stuck his foot in his mouth there. The trouble was it was so damn instinctive. It didn't matter that he'd realized how disillusioned his ambitions had been. While he knew Helios was no longer a place he belonged, years of company loyalty left a subconscious scar that was difficult to hide. He settled for changing subject.“So... how's this escape plan of yours coming along?”

Fiona glanced over her shoulder at the guards behind them. “Just give me some more time. For now keep on you toes and be ready, if we get an opportunity we're not hanging around.” 

“So we'll wing it,” said Sasha.

“Yeah. It's worked before, hasn't it?”

“Oh I am just... so confident about this plan,” muttered Rhys.

 

When they arrived at Jack's office he was waiting for them. Rhys wondered, somewhat absently, if Jack's real purpose in bringing them here had been the display. With the oversized screens on the walls he could stare down at them from all directions, larger than life and twice as terrifying. That kind of godly appearance was exactly the sort of thing that would appeal to him.

“Hey kids, glad you could all make it. Come in, come in,” Jack said. The screens cut to a long shot of him lounging back in a non-existent chair as he watched their nervous approach. The guards lined up behind them, blocking any potential escape. 

_No murder_ , Rhys tried to comfort himself, _he said no murder_.

“How's everyone doing? Enjoying the-”

“What do you want, Jack?” Fiona demanded, her arms folded. Trust her to leap straight into a confrontation.

“ _Woah_ , okay, I get you're trying to act tough or whatever, but maybe don't interrupt me again kitten? Cos I would so hate to ruin this before I get to the surprise I have for you guys. You're gonna love it.” Nobody looked enthused but Jack didn't seem to care. His attention drifted to Rhys and he grinned. “Hey, Rhysie! Still not dead. And that's great, totally great, but you know I just have to ask – what did you _do_?”

“I, uh...”

“I mean there I am, finally getting to kill someone, then boom! Gone. And I figured that was because you'd kicked the bucket or some shit but here _you_ are, still walking and talking... well, you're lame-ass equivalent anyway, and I... I would _really_ like to know how you managed that.”

Rhys shrugged. “August hit me.”

Jack blinked, digesting this information carefully. “What, that's _it_? I'm not buying it. You get hit all the time dumbdumb but it's not like this. How are you keeping me out, huh? Come on, spill it.”

“I'm not keeping you out Jack,” he said before Jack could get angry, although he'd admit that he would if he had the ability. “My cybernetics broke.”

“Huh...” he said flatly. “Well. _Okay_. I guess I should have known, it'd not like you have the brains for anything yourself. I actually- _ha_ – almost thought you'd done something clever there kiddo, my mistake.”

Rhys ignored his jab. He glanced at Fiona but she looked no closer to a real plan than she had before, she was just watching, waiting. Sasha remained patient, Gortys was cautiously curious, and August, predictably enough, was glaring. None of that was any help.

“ _Aaanywho_ ,” drawled Jack, “let's get to the fun part of all this.”

“Right, _'fun'_ ,” he heard August mutter in the background. He shared the sentiment. On the whole Jack's version of fun tended to include a lot more violence than most people's and they weren't in any position to be impartial about it.

“Do you,” asked Jack, “remember that murder list I mentioned?”

Oh, this was _definitely_ not the direction Rhys wanted things to be going. 

“So you're saying you're going to kill us?” said Fiona, sounding more irritated than anything. 

Jack laughed. It echoed through the vast room, bouncing from speaker to speaker and sending a chill down Rhys's spine. “Eh, I thought about it, but you're not worth it right now so no, consider your death postponed. I have plenty of other people I'd have _waaay_ more fun killing. Which is actually what you're here for because... and here's the big surprise... you're going to help me!”

They all stood in silence while Handsome Jack beamed down at them as if he'd just bestowed a mighty gift. Maybe he thought he had. 

Somehow Rhys found his voice. “Don't you... have an army for that kind of stuff?”

“Yeah yeah, what's left of it. But you see, the people at the top of my list... the people who murdered my _daughter_ and, you know, me too... do you know who they are?”

He did. “Vault hunters.”

“Bingo! And do you know the best way to attract vault hunters?”

He could guess. “A vault.”

“Exactly. So, since you're such good pals with that little robot who can _call_ a vault, you get to help set the bait. And if not... well, I'm pretty sure I don't need to specify. What do you say, eh? Here's a hint: the correct answer is yes.”

He glanced at the others although he didn't need to to tell they were thinking much the same thing. There was no way they actually wanted to be involved in this... but saying no to the face of a known psychopath in charge of an entire space station wasn't exactly a good long term decision. _Just ride it out_ , Fiona had said, _wait for an opportunity_. How long would that be?

“I don't know,” said Gortys, “I don't think...”

“It's alright,” Fiona promised her. “Just trust me. Sash?”

Sasha nodded and August gave a faint grunt. Rhys nodded too since there really wasn't anything else he could do.

Fiona turned to address the screen in front of them. “Alright Jack, you've got yourself a deal. But once this is done, that's it, we walk away. Is that clear?”

“Wow, did _not_ realize I was negotiating here. Tell you what, how about you do your job and then I don't have to scoop your eyeballs out. If you want to scram at the end of it, sure, knock yourself out. Chances are I'll have more important things to do than track you down.”

“Fine.”

They regarded each other for one long, tense moment.

“ _IIII'm_ probably going to stick you somewhere with plenty of locks for now,” said Jack eventually. “Just in case you're tempted to do anything stupid, because... you _really_ look the type. In fact, you can all join her. Except Rhys. You, cupcake, need some maintenance.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah, gotta fix those cybernetics, get the old puppet show on the road. I mean, I know, I look great on the big screen but let's face it, having a body is just so damn _useful_.”

“N-No. We're not doing that again. No.” He'd had to endure it once already, heck, he'd had to watch himself nearly kill his friends while he could do nothing. He wouldn't let Jack in again, wouldn't settle quietly back as a spectator while the maniac went about his business. Faulty cybernetics were a pain but at least he was himself. The thought of losing that... it was losing everything.

“Uh, yes we are. See, I'm the one who makes decisions around here. Maybe you'd know what that was like if you hadn't thrown away everything I offered you!”

Rhys opened his mouth, tried to think of something to say, some compelling argument... his own terror outweighed his intellect. “Jack... look, you can't do this!”

“Oops, there you go again. God you are repetitive.” He gestured to the guards. “Two of you, take him down to... I dunno, wherever they handle cybernetic crap these days.”

They moved up to him, and when he showed no inclination to go one of them took a hold of his arm and pulled him along. He stared back at the others in desperation. Surely they wouldn't let this happen, let him be overridden again, let him become a captive in his own head. Fiona would do something. Enact whatever harebrained scheme she'd been cooking up, get them out of here... they wouldn't abandon him... would they? But as urgent as his expression was they only looked on as he was dragged from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best chapter I think but I'm sticking with the 'keep moving forward' mentality. Hopefully we're getting somewhere.


	5. Chapter 5

_You really thought you could get away from me, didn't you Kiddo? That you could just walk away and none of it would matter. Well, now you get to see how things work in the real world._

Rhys sat on the chair in the corner of the room and tried not to feel sick. It had that standard white, sanitary look of a medical ward, but there was no equipment, just a console and a desk. He almost contemplated trying to hack his way in, but the screen flickered eerily for a moment and he changed his mind. Jack was watching. Of course he was.

The guards shifted restlessly outside, just visible through the window. He should jump them. The room was locked, but they'd have to open it eventually. If he could grab one of their guns then he might stand a chance, he could make a run for it, find a way... Rhys groaned. He knew he was kidding himself. He was hardly in any condition for a fight, and even if he did escape then what? Jack had control of Helios, he'd just round him up again and find some way to punish him. 

The door slid open. The man who entered wore a lab coat, and a smaller man in a smaller lab coat tailed him, a clipboard clutched to his chest.  


The first man stared at Rhys for a moment, then sighed. “Alright. Lets take a look at you then.”

He moved with practiced efficiency, checking his arm first, then his ECHO eye before moving to the port. 

“Any previous malfunctions? Anything you think might have sparked this?”

“Uh, no, it was fine until I was hit over the head.”

The man frowned. “You were hit over the head?”

“Yeah...”

“How long ago?”

“Um, a few hours? I kind of blacked out, I'm not exactly sure.”

He pursed his lips, then turned to the man with the clipboard. “Get a message up to-”

The console flickered again and a familiar blue face replaced the desktop. “Hey there, just thought I'd check in, see how things were going. _Soooo_ , important question, what's the hold up?”

The man turned to face the console, obviously contemplating the best way to address the most recent Hyperion overlord. 

As a rule, people on Helios never worried too much about who was in charge so long as it didn't affect their career. Leaders were very interchangeable, and when someone went out an airlock and someone else said they were in charge, the majority of workers knew to shrug their shoulders and say 'yes sir' when given an order. Of course, as a rule that new leader wasn't an AI of a former psychotic CEO who had died in a volcano years prior. There was a first for everything.

“Ah,” he said, licking his dry lips, “well, I'm afraid I must regretfully inform you that there is a minor setback...”

“Is that right?”

“You see,” continued the man, “the subject has experienced a recent head trauma, and so I really can't call it advisable to operate until-”

“You know what's not advisable?” Jack interrupted in his dangerously sing-song voice. “Saying no. To me. I told you to fix those cybernetics right away. Did that... not... get through to you?”

The man considered his position carefully. “I'm very sorry for any misunderstanding, I'll prep my team immediately.”

Jack beamed. “That's more like it.”

“Hey, uh, I dunno, maybe he had a point,” Rhys found himself saying. “I mean, if there's some kind of risk it's probably best to wait... until...”

“Look, cupcake,” Jack said, “that attitude of yours, I have to tell you, it's getting reeeal old.”

“You mean the attitude of not wanting you in my head?”

“See, that's what I'm talking about. Because you know, you know I could make this so much worse for you kitten, I don't even have to say. You know. But, ha, you just won't shut up. Can't take a goddamn hint! So just sit back kiddo, let this happen, and I promise it will all be over quick.”

There was a warning in that voice, a threat that went far beyond his words. Jack was always at his most frightening when he grinned, because behind that smile, behind the lightness of his tone a wolf lurked, staring hungrily. He set Rhys on edge because he knew this was a man who would laugh as easily as he could kill. He'd been a fool to admire him. A fool to think he would stay safely contained. He'd be even more of a fool to snap back at him now.

Rhys looked down at his hands and said nothing more.

“I'll... I'll go prep the team...” the man in the lab coat said, shooting one last look at Handsome Jack's face on the monitor before he left the room, his smaller assistant scurrying after him. 

The screen flickered and Jack disappeared, though if he was really gone or not Rhys had no way of knowing. How many places could he be at once? He couldn't be omnipotent, right?

“Just think positive,” he muttered to himself.

Fiona and Sasha would find a way to get to him. If Jack was distracted watching him then they might escape, get them all out of here... but he couldn't help but think of their empty faces as he was dragged away. They hadn't uttered a word. Did they even care, or had he ruined that too? Surely it was different now they knew about Jack... wasn't it? But he hadn't even had the chance to ask.

“Yep... totally positive.” He glanced at the door, running a nervous hand through his hair and wincing as he brushed the wound at the back of his head. 

_Let this happen, and I promise it will all be over quick._

When the man in the lab coat came back he was accompanied a small collection of medical staff who wheeled in a bed and a tray of equipment. They ignored Rhys, setting about arranging things to their pleasing, adjusting lights and lining up sharp looking tools on the tray.

It was a few minutes later when the man in the lab coat finally addressed him. “If you would kindly move to the bed Mister...”

“Rhys,” he said, unable to take his eyes off the door. 

“Of course.” 

The man waited patiently while Rhys forced himself to stand and move toward the bed.

“Now, it will be a fairly simple procedure,” he heard the man saying, “we'll simply, ah, remove the implant so that we can run diagnostics on it and fix any damage before reinstalling it, nothing we haven't done before. If you would just lie down... yes, that's right. We'll be putting you under for the duration of course, so you won't feel a thing. Just relax, here, breathe this and count back from ten... you'll be out like a light, just like going to sleep... it will all be over...”

It was then that he really started to panic. 

Just like when he'd first had his arm installed. He'd been in fine the weeks leading up to the operation, the waiting room, even while they talked him through it. It was just when they had pressed the mask to his face that the reality of it set in. That he might never wake up again. That those could be his last few moments, his last few instance of life, and there was nothing to do.

Now Rhys wondered if this was the last time he would ever be himself. The last time he would ever be anything but a hostage in his own head...

He lunged off the bed. He swung his fist at the first person who reached for him, knocking them back as he scrabbled up, looking left and right desperately for some kind of escape. The door swished open.

Rhys turned in relief and was immediately tackled down by the entering guard.

“Thank you,” said the man in the lab coat as Rhys blinked back stars. “Would you mind moving him back to the bed?”

“Sure.” 

He felt himself dragged up, manhandled across the room and lifted before he knew what was happening. He dropped onto the bed with a faint 'oof'. It was another few seconds before it occurred to him to sit up. Someone pushed him back down.

“Hold him, please,” the man with lab coat said.

“No,” Rhys said, struggling against the weight of the guard and the three assistants who piled in. “No, you don't have to do this!”

The man with the lab coat lifted the mask attached to the gas canister. “Sorry about this,” he said as he pressed it firmly to Rhys's face. “Just relax.”

Rhys tried to fight, but he couldn't. There was no was to getting off the bed, no way he could reach the mask to pull it from his face. He tried to hold his breath. He clenched his teeth and told himself to ignore the burning in his chest, the tickle in his throat. His eyes watered. He swallowed convulsively. Too soon his body gave in, gasping in breath after hungry breath. The world wavered. 

Desperately he clung to consciousness by his fingertips, raging against the darkness creeping at his vision, but the room swam out of focus and he could feel himself falling. Down and down...

 _Where were you?_ He wanted to ask. _Why didn't you come?_

Then there was only black.


	6. Chapter 6

He remembered some of it. Odd snippets, watching himself not be himself. Jack, parading about, every inch as self assured and ruthless as always, making everyone dance to his tune or die with their misstep. Rhys wanted to do something, but was like he couldn't quite wake up... just below the surface, tantalizingly out of reach. Whenever he tried he found he didn't have the strength to do more than think about it. 

Perhaps he should have been relieved. It wasn't like the first time. At least this way he knew it was beyond his control, that he could absolve himself of blame and relax. Dozing in and out within his own head.

But he hated it. Even if it was useless, struggling was better. _Trying_ was better than letting this happen.

He was sickened by half the stuff he saw. And he was terrified of half the stuff he _didn't_ see, when he drifted out of consciousness. 

Fiona, Sasha and the others were there a few times. He remembered the way they looked at him, an odd mixture of horror, pity and disgust. He wanted to say something to them. He wasn't sure what, but it seemed important. He almost roused himself from his daze.

_Sleep it off, Kiddo, you're just getting in the way._

And he slipped away once more. When he next came to they were gone.

_I could get used to this, this thing we have going,_ Jack was saying. _You aaaalll quiet, actually... actually doing as you're told. Which isn't to say I don't like a bit of a fight, ha, almost miss the way you screamed. I mean, come on, you remember right? Me strangling your little friend, and there you were all 'no Jack, don't hurt them, please I'll do anything, please, stop!' Ha! Hil-arious... buuuuut we'll have some fun times ahead of us, you and me. What do you say, Pumpkin? Sound good to you?_

Rhys didn't know what to say. Didn't know that he _could_ say anything.

_Hey Rhysie, asked you a question there. Don't leave me hanging._

Rhys remained silent in the back of his head.

Jack sounded almost disappointed. _Okay, whatever, you sulk if you want kitten, just remember, you're not getting out of this. So suck it up, get used to it, and stop being to God damn boring!_

That became his life. Half there, half not, and never more than an idle thought. A waking nightmare.

Jack talked to him sometimes, trying to bully a response out of him, but Rhys never had the energy. If he didn't know better he'd say Jack actually missed him. Though if he was honest, he probably missed _tormenting_ him. 

He knew something was happening. There were plans, plans he wasn't quite awake enough to grasp, preparations that would have made sense if he was paying attention. 

There was the caravan. And he wondered how he was seeing this, why he was seeing this... strange, it was so familiar it almost felt like home. As his eyes wandered the interior he remembered himself, Vaughn, Fiona, Sasha, LoaderBot and Gortys... maybe even Athena. They'd lived together here in grudging harmony while they searched for the vault. He missed that. 

Then he glimpsed the stars, and then the dirt... and then, finally, Rhys woke up.

_____

The sun was hot. He could feel it scorching his back. He could feel the red, dusty ground beneath his fingers, against his face, and the itch of sweat. He didn't move. Because if he tried... there was a chance nothing would happen. That possibility terrified him.

He heard a Rakk cry above, and somewhere close by someone muttered something to themselves. It all felt so real, not like the distant reality he'd come to know but something truly tangible. Rhys found the courage to act.

He started with his left hand, the real one, curling his fingers experimentally. They moved. Relief coursing through him he shifted the entire arm, and then his cybernetic one too, pushing himself up. He stared at the wide blue sky and the burnt, orange landscape, drinking it in.

“So, are you really you this time, or is this another bad joke?”

Rhys turned to look behind him. There, sat on a rock in the shade of the caravan, was Fiona. Her pistol was in her lap and as he watched, she polished it with a look of extreme focus, barely paying him any mind.

“It's me,” he said, “Rhys, the corporate screw up.”

He would have expected some reply to that, she always did love to agree in those rare instances he talked himself down. But she only glanced up, eyes studying him for a brief moment before she went back to her work.

“It _is_ me. But... uh... what happened? Where are we?” he asked as he stood, dusting himself off.

“Where do you think?” Fiona asked dryly.

Oh. Well, he'd admit that was a stupid question. There was no mistaking Pandora, especially when Helios lurked in the sky like some sinister, all-seeing eye.

“Yeah, Pandora, okay, I get it,” he said, “But how? I've... well, you know, I could do with a catch up. How did we escape? What did I miss?”

Fiona put down the rag and checked the mechanisms themselves, making sure they moved smoothly. “We didn't escape,” she said.

“Then...”

“Then we're doing Jack's plan.”

“And he's...”

“Probably still in your head somewhere. Had to leave for a while but he'll be back.”

Rhys felt a lump in his throat. Fiona didn't look at him, just tested her draw, flicking the little pistol into her hand with practiced speed. She aimed at the skyline, squinting at some invisible target.

“So... so I just have to hang around, _waiting_ for him to come back and turn me into his puppet again?! What kind of a plan was that? You said to wait for an opportunity but I though you'd actually... how could you let this happen?” he burst out. It only maddened him more the way she seemed determined to ignore him in favour of her gun. Didn't she care at all?

“What did you expect me to do, Rhys? Burn my way through Helios with my laser eyes? We couldn't get to you, okay, so just... shut up.”

“And after that, you never even tried anything? Nothing? I though you were supposed to be some brilliant criminal mastermind, not a... a...”

“Should I wait?”

“Oh no. I've got a great insult.”

_“Uh-huh,”_ she said, with a fair amount of scepticism.

“I-it's just too clever. You wouldn't get it. No, look, you're changing the subject! Are we really just going to leave me a prisoner and roll with this insane plan? I mean, come on... killing vault hunters? They could murder us with their pinky fingers!”

“Maybe _you_... Look, it's nothing personal, alright? On Pandora... on Pandora you do what you need to survive.”

“And that means this... leaving me in the hands of a psychopath, backstabbing vault hunters... you're okay with that?” he asked.

She slipped the pistol back into her sleeve. “If that's what it takes.”

“Unbelievable!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Well, maybe I'll start my _own_ plan.”

“Feel free to wander off into the desert if that's what you're thinking,” Fiona said curtly. “Either you'll die or Jack will march you right back. Like it or not, you're working with us now, and we're working with you even if we'd rather leave you in a ditch. And _both_ of us are stuck working for Jack.”

Rhys paced, trying to rid himself of this frustration. To finally be himself again, but still be unable to do anything? It was just... unfair. None of this was how it was supposed to go. But none of it ever was, was it? They just ran from one accident to the next. Sometimes they got lucky. Sometimes... He found himself thinking of Scooter for a moment. Poor guy. At least Rhys was still alive. As long as that were true, he had a chance. He needed to remember that. He wasn't going to give up and let Jack win, not now, not ever. If Fiona and the others weren't going to help then he'd just have to think of something himself and hope that Jack wasn't watching too closely. 

“Alright, fine,” he said abruptly, turning back to her, “can you at least tell me how much time I have before that psychotic dickbag comes back?”

“Don't know, but it might be a while. When we meet the Vault Hunters he can't be here, he knows he'd just give himself away.”

“So that's what we're doing now? Meeting Vault Hunters?”

“Finding them more like,” she said. “We got news a couple of them were hunting bandits round here. If you've calmed down we'll go look once Sasha and August get back, they're scouting the area.”

She hopped off the rock, pulling the caravan door open and climbing inside. After a moments hesitation Rhys followed.

“Gortys?” Fiona called. “Any word from the others?”

“Oh, hey Fiona! Sasha says they're coming back and... oh... hi Mister Handsome Jack Sir.”

“It's, uh, it's Rhys this time,” he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. The wound on his head had healed remarkably.

“Really? Awww, that's great! The other you is _really_ creepy,” she whispered, her eyes flickering to conspiratorial lines of light.

“Yeah, well... can't argue with that.”

“Gortys, did they say how long they'd be?” Fiona interrupted.  
  
“I dunno. She said they were coming back. Then they started arguing about something and then she said to turn the radio off unless he wanted everyone to hear, and then he said everyone could probably already hear with how loud she was, and then they turned the radio off and I don't know what else they said after that.”

Fiona sighed. “Well I guess I should be thankful they're not getting back together anytime soon. How long ago was that?”

“Ten minutes I guess?”

“That's not too long... they could just be taking it slow,” she said, half to herself. She glared at the caravan's radio, as if challenging it to speak to her.

“Yeah, they're probably fine,” Rhys agreed.

“I didn't ask you.”

“Just... trying to be positive.”

She glared for a moment longer, then straighten up, business like. “We wait another ten. If they're not back by then, we go find them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting to where the action is at


	7. Chapter 7

August and Sasha were not back in ten. When Fiona tried to call them she got no response. Cursing, she kicked at the floor then managed to compose herself. After a moment she turned back to him. “We'll have to go look for them. Come on.”

“Isn't this bandit territory or something?” Rhys asked apprehensively.

“Yeah, that's why Vault Hunters are supposed to be killing bandits here. Is that a problem?”

“Not as such...” he said, looking out through the window at the dusty, red landscape. “I was just thinking it might be... a bit dangerous?”

Fiona smirked. “Are you scared?”

“ _Pffft_ , what? No, of course not, it's just... do you think I could at least have a gun or something?”

“Nope. You wouldn't even know what to do with it anyway.”

“So I wander through bandit territory... defenseless,” he said, folding his arms.

“I'd defend you... maybe. If it makes you feel better I think your zappy stick thing is here somewhere.”

“My zappy stick thing?” he asked, raising one incredulous eyebrow. Fiona did not seem to find it as funny, she was already distracted, gazing out the window. Perhaps she was busy thinking about her sister, and what could possibly have delayed her. The moment he thought of that, he found it hard to smile. As preoccupied as he was with his own problems he didn't like to imagine her in danger. _Priorities, Rhys. Find Sasha, get vault hunters, work out how to get rid of Jack._ Nice, simple steps.

“Yeah, you know the one,” Fiona said. “Look, take it or leave it, we don't have time to hang around.”

“Alright, alright.”

After a quick search he found his stun baton in one of the cupboards. Fiona was standing by the door, impatiently tapping her foot, and he didn't think it wise to keep her waiting any longer. As he stepped outside she leaned in to speak to Gortys.

“You need to stay here in case they come back. If they do, you call us... and if anyone you don't know tries to get in, you hide, okay?”

Gortys saluted. “Yes Ma'm! You can count on me.”

“Be good.” Fiona gave the little robot a reassuring pat, closed the caravan and turned to Rhys.

“We head that way,” she said, indicating uphill to where a path wound its way up the clifflike rock formation. It looked like a tough climb. “That's the way they went, so it's our best bet.”

“Lead the way.”

The trek was as laborious as he had expected. While his long legs gave him an advantage, Rhys had never been athletic, and for the biggest part of his life that had never been a problem. On Pandora things were different. On Pandora it helped to be fit when just about everything was trying to kill you, apparently including the geography. 

Ha! Look at him, complaining about a little walk. He could be possessed by a psychopath again at any moment, and yet he was, considering just how much he hated uphill travel. It didn't help that his nerves were shot, and at every instance he half expected a bandit to leap out and gun them down. His heart was pounding, his skin was sweaty and his breath wheezed in and out like a dying man's. Still, they didn't stop to rest.

Fiona, when he glanced at her, wore a look of unstoppable determination. Rhys liked to imagine that show was in part for him. That secretly, she too was finding herself short of breath, and unseasonably hot under her jacket. She'd be too proud to let on of course.

“Keep climbing,” Fiona scolded him when she caught him slowing down.

Rhys was too tired to argue at that point so he just waved his cybernetic arm in a sign of surrender and forced himself onward, reminding himself that surely, _surely_ they had almost reached the top by now.

When they finally crested the top he took a moment to observe there were no bandits nearby and immediately sat down on the flat shelf of rock. The dry, arid air burned his lungs but he choked it in none the less, feeling the full strength of the sun scorching his back.

After a minute he saw Fiona make her way to the edge on the other side. She stared down, assessing the area before she called him over. Reluctantly Rhys pulled himself to his feet.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Far below them, nestled between towering rock lay some kind of sprawling camp. It was hard to define any details at such a distance, but he thought he saw figures lounging about between the ramshackle buildings and old barrels. Not vault hunters, they were far too numerous and disorganized for that. They looked so small from up here, like tiny, murderous ants... Rhys moved carefully back from the edge before his vertigo could set in.

“I think it looks like bandits.”

“Well yeah, but do you see any sign of Sasha or August?”

“How? We're like... a million miles up. They're not _waving a flag_ or anything.”

She gave him a flat stare, the one she had perfected to say, in very clear terms, _'Rhys you're an idiot'_. “Your cybernetics were fixed, remember? Might as well put them to use, Mister Roboto.”

“Oh... right.” Somewhat sheepishly he shuffled back to the edge, peering over once again.

Rhys felt a moment of trepidation. His last experience had been less than pleasant. He still remembered that blinding burst of pain back on Helios when he'd attempted to use his faulty cybernetics... that all consuming agony... He knew Jack had fixed them, but you couldn't always rationalize fear.

Trying to create a facsimile of calm he took a breath. No big deal, just... switch it on. Rhys steadied himself, and activated his ECHO eye.  
No static this time, just the usual whir as the device booted up. He saw the camp below in a sudden clarity, each objected separated out and highlighted for his convenience. All it took was an idle thought and the scene leaped forward, it was almost as if he were there, hovering a few scant inches above the rooftops. 

He could see everything. The bandit picking his nose when he though no one was looking, the lewd graffiti on the walls, the rodentlike creatures cooking over the fire while someone stood watch, the crates of ammunition, an old discarded magazine... also lewd. He scanned a couple of the bandits out of curiosity but all his systems were able to tell him was that they smelt bad and liked to shoot things. He'd figure that was a given.

“Rhys...”

“I'm looking, I'm looking, just hold on.”

He turned his attention back the search, scouring the camp for any sign of Sasha or August. As hard as he tried nothing caught his attention. He deactivated his ECHO eye and sat back.

“I can't see anything,” he said to Fiona, “ _which_ is probably a good thing.”

She pursed her lips. “Alright... maybe they went further... this path looks like it goes around, we'll sneak past and take a look.”

She set off without waiting for him. With a sigh he got up. Part of him wondered if he should just stay where he was, but after a moment he was already following.

The track was rough but deserted. It opened out on the flat plains below, and to the right they could make out what looked like another entrance to the bandit camp. There were no guards out front but they still gave it a wide berth. He was pretty sure Sasha and August would have done the same if they came by this way, they had common sense... well, one of them did.

“Hey, does that look like something to you?” Fiona asked, pointing off into the distance. A dark spec sat in the middle of the desert, like a small stain on a perfect sheet.

Rhys squinted, then remembered to use his ECHO eye. It was still too far away to make out much even with the cybernetic but he could at least form a rough idea. “It looks like some kind of vehicle to me.”

“Is there anyone with it?”

“I don't think so...” he said.

“Well let's go check it out.”

Rhys stared at her in disbelief. “Why?”

“I don't know...” she said defensively, “it looks suspicious, there might be a clue or something.”

“ _Sure_ , right, that makes sense.”

She pointed a warning finger his way. “Unless you see anything better you can drop the attitude.”

He rolled his eyes at her back as they began to trudge out toward the vehicle. Heat haze danced across the landscape, shimmering and distorting the plains into an umber ocean of dust and dirt. It would have been picturesque on a calendar maybe, but some of the magic was lost when they were slowly melting to death.

“Don't suppose you brought any water?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his face off on his sleeve.

“Is all you ever do complain?”

“No... I do other things too,” he replied sulkily, lapsing into silence. It probably wasn't a good time to mention he was getting sunburnt.

When they finally reached the vehicle he circled round and slumped in the shadow it cast while Fiona investigated. It wasn't much, some bandit technical, bumped up but in working order. While there was no sign of the owners there were some cheerful bloodsplatters on the seats.

“Those could have been there before though,” Fiona said as she rifled through the glovebox, “I mean, _bandits_.”

“But why leave it out here? Do you think maybe Sasha and August could have...”

“There's no sign they were here. They just went ahead to scout, they were supposed to stay out of trouble... Maybe it was vault hunters?”

“We don't know that.”

“But it _could_ be,” she persisted. She gave a sudden sound of appreciation and Rhys glanced over to see her tucking a few folded bills into her pocket.

“Any water in there?” he asked.

“There's... some kind of liquid. Don't know it I'd call it water, it kind of smells like feet.”

“Neeeevermind,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the barren landscape. He blinked. There was a speck on the horizon he didn't remember seeing before. It was getting closer. He stood up.

“Uh, hey, Fiona?” he called, agitation breaking into his voice.

“What? Is this about-”

“There's something coming toward us. Fast.”

She hopped out of the vehicle, lifting a hand to shade her eyes as she stared in the direction he indicated. “Is that another truck?”

“Yeah, bandit technical, and it's headed right for us.”

“Oh,” said Fiona. “Crap.”

“What do we do?” he said, arms outstretched as if to display their dilemma. “We can't hide, we're literally in the middle of nowhere!”

She shrugged. “Maybe they're friendly?”

“Yeah, I'd rather not risk it,” he said, tugging her round to the back of the vehicle. They crouched down, listening as the roar of the engine approached. “This is your fault you know.”

“Shut up. I've got my gun, you've got your stun rod, if we get the jump on them we'll be okay... possibly.”

Rhys groaned. The truck was almost upon them now, seconds away. An idea struck him.

The back of the vehicle was empty, but there were a few boxes of ammunition and an old tarp that looked big enough to hide under. He scrabbled up, offering Fiona his hand. “Get in, quick.”

“What are you doing?”

“Not getting us killed. Just trust me, okay?”

There was a flicker of hesitation across her face, but it was gone in an instant and she pulled herself up into the back of the truck, ignoring his hand. Rhys pulled the tarp over them both and they lay still, trying to hush their breathing.

The other vehicle pulled up. A door opened and someone's feet hit the ground.

“Isn't that Brandon's ride?” a voice asked.

“Well it _was_ , but uh, I don't see Brandon...”

“So... you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“I'm thinking he's not going to mind if we drive it back.”

“Because he's probably dead,” the first voice added.

“Yeah... way to be subtle about it man. Just grab it, we were supposed to be back hours ago.”

“Why do I have to do it?”

“Because I can't drive two cars you dumb shit. Do you wanna let the psychos drive?”

“Gees, you don't have to be so _mean_ about it. I have _feelings_ you know.”

Muttering to himself the man stomped over to the truck, and Rhys felt it lurch as he climbed in. Then the door slammed and the motor sputtered into life.

The ride was bumpy, to say the least. While the terrain was flat they had nothing to cling onto, so even the smallest pothole, or slightest shift in momentum could send them skidding about in the back. Fiona kicked him, which he was only half convinced was an accident. Rhys hit his head twice. He was seriously considering investing in a helmet by the time they slowed. Cautiously, ever so cautiously, he eased up the edge of the tarp. They were headed right into the bandit camp. He let the material drop, trying to keep as still and silent as possible.

They drove through, and then sound of the vehicles grew strangely echoey as they pulled into what Rhys guessed must be a garage of sorts. Doors slammed and he listened to the various voices and footsteps until they faded, followed by a rattling shutter. Then quiet. He still waited a tense minute before he dared to move.

Pulling the tarp back he found only darkness. Cautiously he lit his cybernetic palm. Fiona was glaring at him. Why did she always have to glare at him?

“Okay, so... this could have gone better,” he admitted, “but the important part to remember is how we were _not shot_ , which is exactly what would have happened if we'd tried _your_ plan.”

She continued to glare. “I hate you so much right now.”


	8. Chapter 8

The garage, if it could be called that, was not a lot to look at. There was enough space to fit a few vehicles and spare parts but nothing more than the basic necessities. Rhys scanned them halfheartedly with his ECHO eye while Fiona paced.

The bandits could return at any moment but there was not a lot they could do about it. They were rats in a barrel, which as she liked to remind him was entirely his fault. He supposed she was right but in the last few weeks they'd started a campaign of jumping from one fire and into another, it was hardly a new experience. In fact, he still didn't think it was the worst part of their situation.

A metal clang rang out causing him to wince and he spun, narrowing his eyes at Fiona.

“Hey, there's a ladder here,” she said, tapping her boot on the bottom rung again in case the first time hadn't been enough.

“Great.”

“Uh, less sulking Rhys, more light.”

He sighed, making his way over to her and lifting his cybernetic palm so that she could see properly. “Just... keep it down, okay? I don't want anyone coming to investigate.”

“You're overreacting,” she told him as she started to climb. She didn't go far. Her feet hit the walkway above and there was a long pause.

“Fiona? Anything up there?”

“Yep. Whole lot of boxes.” She kicked one of them, rattling the contents. Rhys was beginning to suspect she was more than a little irritated. “Get up here.”

“Why?”

“Because it's better than waiting around doing nothing. Maybe there's something useful in one of these.”

“Like _what_?” he said with a hint of exasperation.

Fiona sighed. “I don't know. Look, you're the only flashlight I have so come on, _light_.”

“It's nice to know,” he muttered as he began to climb, “that my contribution is appreciated.”

If Fiona heard him she gave no sign, she'd already parked herself down and was opening the nearest box. She shuffled over as Rhys made it onto the walkway, begrudgingly making room for him. He titled his cybernetic palm downward to illuminate the contents.

“Huh,” said Fiona, picking up a clip and spinning it idly in her fingers.

“Who stores ammo in cardboard boxes?”

“These guys apparently,” she said, dropping the clip carelessly and moving onto the next box. “Oh, there's a gun in this one.”

“Oooh, that could be useful.”

“Yeah, if you're planning to shoot your foot off. Look at this piece of crap, held together with spit and... and whatever that is.” The spot she indicated to looked suspiciously like gum.

“Well it can probably shoot more than three bullets,” he said.

She sent him a scowl. “Hey, there is _nothing_ wrong with my gun. Besides, our best bet isn't getting into a shootout, we just need a quiet chance to slip away, no harm no foul.” For a moment her expression shifted. “Hold up, Gortys is calling.”

Fiona went quiet, hand pressed to her ear as she listened. She took a steadying breath. “Alright, you do what I told you, okay? You hide and we'll get to you as soon as we can, I _promise_.” Gortys must have responded because Fiona nodded as if satisfied, then let her hand drop.

Rhys doubted the news was good but still he had to ask. “What was it?”

“Someone's trying to get into the caravan. I told her to keep hidden but there's not a lot else we can do while we're stuck here.” She let out a vague groan of disgust. “This has to be the worst rescue mission.”

“Well, uh, there-there was mine,” Rhys said eventually. He tried to make it lighthearted, to keep any bitterness from his tone, but it was a faltering attempt at best.

“Except that one never actually happened,” she admitted. She had the curtesy to look away, tipping her head back to stare upward. She looked oddly grim, something he was unused to seeing. Oh she could look pissed, and she could look fierce, but she rarely looked... he couldn't find the words for it. A certain severity that had nothing to do with anger or determination. She blinked and the moment was lost. “The ceiling's much closer up here.”

Rhys coughed. “Is that a... uh, metaphor, or am I-”

She grabbed his cybernetic arm, ignoring his protests as she angled it up. She came to a decision almost immediately. “Those panels look pretty loose, if you give me a boost I'm pretty sure I can reach them, we can climb out.”

“And what good's that going to do?” he asked, wrestling his arm back. She let it go, attention elsewhere. She was grinning.

“I dunno, but we'll be on a roof.”

This, apparently, was an improvement in her mind. Rhys wasn't so sure. Still, since he had no better plan himself he linked his hands together to form a foothold for her and she clambered up, hitting the ceiling panel with carefully controlled blows until it gave way. She nudged it aside and sudden blinding sunlight spilled into the garage.

He squinted. “How's the view?”

“Shhhh, keep it down,” she said, voice hushed. She got her arms up and heaved herself out, carefully checking about. Once she seemed satisfied no one had noticed she lay down, stretching her arms down through the hole toward him. “Come on, I'll pull you up.”

“Are you... sure you can do that?” he asked, regarding her skeptically.

She gave a wry smile. “I can't be any weaker than you.”

“I am... not... that weak...” he said, with a halfhearted laugh. Fiona's face was mercilessly stoic.

“Just hurry it up,” she told him, flapping a hand about as if he might have missed it.

Rhys extinguished the light of his cybernetic palm and took hold of her wrists, Fiona grabbing his in turn, pulling upward with all her might. She gave a grunt. “God, I forgot how heavy you are.”

“Hey, you said you could do it so pull!” Rhys snapped back, feet dangling inches off the ground.

“I am pulling!”

“Well pull harder.”

“You are _not_ helping right now,” she ground out, teeth clenched tight as she strained against his weight. Another few inches and he'd be able to grab the edge.

The rattle of the garage shutter sounded behind him. Fiona froze.

“ _Fiona!_ ” he hissed. 

She snapped back to attention, leaning back as she attempted to lift him the last little bit. They weren't going to make it in time.  
Fiona must have noticed. Her expression was apologetic. “Sorry Rhys,” she said, and pried herself free. 

He dropped back down to the walkway in shock, barely able to keep his balance as he staggered. He had time to shoot a glare upward and catch her mouthing the word _'hide'_ before she shoved the ceiling panel back into place.

Leaving him in his own mess again. And he got it, he supposed, given everything he'd put her through, wished he could even say he accepted it, but it still stung. He thought he'd gone some way to mending those bridges... but maybe he'd just imagined it. The longer they stayed broken the more reasons she gave him to resent her back. It was like a horrid cycle. They'd never started as friends but now that whatever they'd built was crumbling he found himself missing it.

Crouching down amongst the boxes Rhys reminded himself that self-pity was not a very good survival tactic and quietly drew his stun baton.  
A light flickered on, shredding the feeble shroud of shadows around him and making his cardboard cover all the more pathetic. _It's fine_ , Rhys told himself with an edge of desperation, _yeah, it's totally fine and they're not going to look up here._

The shutter ground to a halt. Footsteps, several of them, he found it hard to count. Three people? Four? ...more than four? He was just guessing, brows knit in a deep frown as he calculated his diminishing odds.

“See, it's like I told you,” a voice said, “Brandon's ride. No Brandon. Means it's mine now.”

“Why does it get to be yours?”

“Cos I found it!”

“I thought Larry found it.”

The first voice paused for a moment. “Well Larry already drives, so I'm thinking he doesn't need two cars, right? Plus Larry's a piece of crap. No one likes Larry.”

The second bandit gave a snort. “Eh, you got that right. Made fun of my boots the other day.”

“Ain't nothing wrong with your boots.”

“Exactly!”

A third voice broke into the conversation, distinctly more nasal. “What happened to Brandon?”

“Hell, how should I know? Probably face down in a ditch somewhere, who cares?”

“Just think that if someone killed him we might return the favor... can't let the other clans thinking we're soft.”

“Fair enough,” the second voice said. “We'll take a party out tomorrow, see anyone looks funny we'll teach them a lesson.”

“Alright... I'll throw some extra ammo in, make it a good time.” His feet hit the ladder and Rhys tensed.

“Whatever,” the other bandit muttered, already distracted. “Hey you, don't touch that!”

The steady clank of boots on metal drew closer. Rhys knew there was no chance of staying hidden if the bandit made it up, but if he did anything to announce himself they'd all try to kill him anyway. He doubted they'd accept a peaceful surrender.

This was exactly the sort of time he needed Loader Bot to swoop in and save him, except he was... well, Rhys was ashamed to admit he had no idea where Loader Bot was, if he was even still... no, Loader Bot was fine. The last while had been... complicated. He'd lost track of more than one friend, but once he got out of this, once the whole Jack problem was gone... then he'd fix everything. He just needed to survive for now...

Not the best point to go off on a mental tangent. _Crap_. One way or another he was going to have to act, time was running short. He'd just have to take his chances.

Keeping as low as he could he crept closer to the edge. He was too anxious to breathe, even the faint sound sound of his clothing seemed too much. His knuckles were white, clenching the stun baton. Hey, no problem, he'd done this before right? His first day on Pandora had been a shootout. He was like a... a _connoisseur_ of danger at this point. He could do this...

The bandit's head popped up over edge of the walkway. Rhys clicked the baton and jammed it right between his eyes. With a sudden burst of electricity the man went flying back, slamming into one of the vehicles below. A heavy silence filled the air followed by a moan of pain.

“...the hell?”

Well. Rhys was pretty sure they knew he was here now. This was a bad plan. This was a _reeeally_ bad plan.

“So uh, if you'd all surrender now I-I'll go easy,” he said, the effect somewhat spoiled by the way his voice insisted on breaking.

The sound of guns being reloaded reverberated through the garage and boots hit the ladder. He'd expected as much. He backed away from the ladder and, making a spontaneous decision, vaulted over the railing and down to the floor below.

It was a lot further down than he remembered. As he tried to push himself back to his feet he caught sight of a figure moving around the closest car. Snatching up the stun baton he rolled under the vehicle.

“You're dead meat, asshole!” Bullets sprayed the ground just behind him.

Scrabbling out the other side Rhys struck closest bandit, slamming him into the wall with the baton and turning toward the exit. Another bandit blocked his path, gun locked on his head. Rhys froze. He was too far away to hit with the stun baton, doubted he had time to drop and roll under the car.

Almost as if in slow motion a sigh sounded in his own skull. _Gotta hand it to you kiddo, you've got a real knack for trouble. I mean, gees, I leave you alone for what... a day? And here you are, ha, fricken getting_ shot _at by_ bandits! _It's... it's practically a_ condition _at this point._

Adrenaline overpowered any natural repulsion he felt. _You could be a little more helpful right now_ , he sent back. His body was already moving though.

Jack yanked the car door open, ducking behind it as the bandit unloaded his magazine. As the clip went dry Jack dodged round, running straight for the bandit and seizing him the throat.

It felt too fast to follow. Rhys was simply dragged along, an unwilling passenger in his own head. Maybe that was for the best, he didn't know what he would have done, except maybe scream.

Jack flung the bandit against the other car without releasing him. Rhys felt his grip begin to tighten. Slowly at first, more for satisfaction than anything, but with the cybernetic arm it was easy to exert the right pressure. The bandit kicked, hands clawing helplessly against Jack's grip. Rhys couldn't see the bandit's expression behind their mask but the way they shuddered made him feel sick. Jack was too busy to draw it out. It ended with a grisly crunch and he allowed the man to drop, stooping to pick up his pistol. He pulled a spare clip from the corpse and reloaded.

_Take notes kitten, this is how it's supposed to be done._

Moving out from behind the second car he levelled the gun and fired five shots through the nearest bandit, tearing through his chest in a spray of blood, then immediately swivelling to hit the next target. Another down, falling like dominos. He was laughing. Of course he was. Nothing pleased Jack more than murder.

He shot the bandit who'd been climbing to the walkway in the leg. He toppled to the ground with a scream. Sobbing the man attempted to crawl away.

“Stop shooting! I surrender!”

“Well that just makes this so much easier for me now doesn't it?” crowed Jack, closing the distance between them at a leisurely pace. He aimed carefully and sent a bullet right through his head.

_Ma-an I never get bored of shooting those guys! Bandits, am I right?_

He tossed the pistol aside, turning about as if to find something more interesting than the corpse splayed at his feet. Rhys felt as if he were in shock. He'd never get used to seeing this, no matter how many times... he knew it wasn't him but he could still remember the sensation of his hands around that bandits throat, squeezing... crushing... that had nearly been Fiona. If it hadn't been for August... he suppressed a mental shiver.

A shriek to his left. Jack barely managed to twist out the way as a buzz axe whizzed past his ear. He snorted, more amused than anything. Taking a couple of steps back to face the psycho he- paused.

And like a light flickering out Jack was gone.

Rhys took another step back, too stunned to do more than stare, the astonishment of suddenly finding himself in control again leaving him stupefied.

The psycho gave a howl of laughter. “It's time for the meat puppet!”

The manic tone of its voice shook him back to reality. With a yelp he threw himself backward, avoiding the second strike. He reached into his jacket for his stun baton but it was gone. _Of course_. Jack had dropped it like a toy he was bored with. Why the hell had he chosen this moment to disappear? Cursing to himself Rhys looked about wildly, eyes wide for anything he could use. The pistol Jack had abandoned wasn't far, lying out in the open.  
He ran, the giggling psycho hot on his heels, panic bubbling in his veins.

If Jack could use a gun he could. It wasn't too hard. Just like fingerguns, point and _kapow! Blam!_ ...oh god, oh god.

He pivoted and sped round the car, hoping to gain some distance between him and his pursuer. It seemed to have the right effect, and by the time the psycho had skidded, adjusted their trajectory and followed him, he was back the other side. He dived for the gun, fingers fumbling as he scooped it up. _Turn and shoot. Easy._

Rhys spun to face the charging maniac and forced himself to squeeze the trigger. It clicked empty. His mouth hung agape in horror as the triumphant psycho swung the buzz axe down. He didn't have time to dodge. All Rhys could do was clench his eyes shut and prayed it would be over quick.

After a few trembling seconds it was not. No flash of searing pain. No bright light. Just the sound of his own shuddering breath, oddly loud in the cavernous space of the garage.

Cautiously he cracked an eye open. The psycho stood right in front of him, buzz axe held aloft, yet it didn't move. It was staring down. Rhys followed its gaze to the blue sword pointing from its chest.

“I-is that...” Rhys stuttered, not entirely sure what he was trying to say. The air behind the psycho shimmered and a familiar figure in a black and grey jumpsuit blinked into view. They pulled the sword free with one fluid motion, flicking the blood away as the pycho collapsed.

Rhys couldn't help himself. He let out the most awkward laugh of his life. A perfectly rational reaction to nearly dying he told himself, that was all. He was still holding the gun. Realizing this he let it slip from his fingers, clattering to the ground. He cleared his throat. “Wow, that was, er, that was... you have no idea how good it is to see a familiar face... mask... d-did I mention how cool you are?”

Zer0 cocked their head to the side. He couldn't read their expression and they didn't bother to flash him any clues. _“Strange finding you now. It seems our paths cross again. But why are you here?”_

Rhys scratched the back of his neck. “That's uh,” he began, trying to work out what the assassin was thinking. There was nothing threatening about their body language, nothing more than usual anyway, but Rhys was only half sure. That was what make them so cool, really, that level of danger, mystery, that... damn, he was getting side track and staring like an idiot. He just wasn't used to meeting people like this. “It's a... long story,” he finished lamely.

The assassin didn't move. _“Huh.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence! But yeah, wow, sorry for such a wait, I'm not on top of my life but I still have places I want to go with this. I really hope you're enjoying the ride, let me know what you think


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